Before kick-off today, I thought about some of my other special moments inside the ground. Some as a supporter in the Stretford End or elsewhere, such as witnessing Wayne Rooney’s debut hat-trick or Robin van Persie’s amazing volley against Aston Villa, and some as an employee.
When we beat Chelsea to virtually clinch the 2010/11 title, shaking, alongside the whole stadium, as the supporters pleaded for the final whistle while trying to get our match report live. You see, I wouldn’t put the result into the headline until any game was over for fear of jinxing it, even if we needed it live as quickly as possible. Crazy, I know, but the stress of the whole situation was part of what we all feel following United.
The last time I was sat at Old Trafford, it was impossible not to get carried away when Scott McTominay swept in that long-range clincher in the Manchester derby. I’m sure everybody would understand, it’s not as if we have to be impartial.
Such allowances were a relief again this afternoon as it became a little embarrassing when I realised my natural reactions to the goals would echo around the empty Theatre of Dreams. I was almost expecting to be shushed like in a real theatre.